


Comfort

by future_fishy



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Crying, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Fluff, I'M NOT CRYING YOU ARE, Kissing, M/M, post episode 8, spoilers for episode 8, this is sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-23
Updated: 2016-11-23
Packaged: 2018-09-01 20:07:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8636404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/future_fishy/pseuds/future_fishy
Summary: Viktor is upset, and Yuuri isn't sure how to comfort him, but he tries.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I have a lot of feelings about episode 8, mainly that I will riot if this anime has two dead dogs.

“The next flight to Japan is in four hours.” Yuuri said, looking up from the website he had open on his phone.

After Yakov had (reluctantly) accepted Viktor’s request to act as Yuuri’s coach, the two of them had blown off the reporters and rushed back to the hotel. Viktor sat on the bed next to Yuuri, trying and failing to look like he was doing okay. He gripped his own thighs to hide the tremor in his hands, but Viktor couldn’t control his mile-a-minute heart rate or the blood rushing from his face. Makkachin had been a constant comfort in his life for a long time. Viktor knew, logically, that he’d have to deal with this eventually — dogs didn’t live forever — but he hadn’t been prepared for something to happen to Makkachin so suddenly while he was half way across the world. Viktor opened his mouth to reply, but no words came out. Yuuri placed a hand gently over one of Viktor’s, smoothing his thumb over the other man’s knuckles.

“Viktor, do you want me to come to the airport with you?” Yuuri tried to sound comforting, but his voice cracked mid-sentence.

All Yuuri could think about was Vicchan dying while he was in America, and how much it hurt, how much he hated himself for not being there. He didn’t want, he wouldn’t _let_ that happen to Viktor.

Viktor laced his and Yuuri’s fingers and shook his head, “It’d only make it harder for me to go.”

“Okay.”

Bringing his other hand to Viktor’s cheek, Yuuri turned Viktor to face him and leaned in a little — a silent request for permission. Viktor covered the hand on his cheek with his own, fingers cold and palm clammy, and Yuuri took that as a yes. He leaned in the rest of the way and pressed his lips to Viktor’s, and Viktor’s hands moved to cling to the back of his warm-up jacket. They stayed in that position for a long time, until Yuuri felt hot moisture against the hand he had rested on Viktor’s cheek. He pulled back to see tears streaming down Viktor’s face, his lips trembling with the effort of holding in a sob. He’d never seen Viktor cry before, and Yuuri was overcome with a need to protect him from anything and everything. He pulled Viktor into a tight hug, carding his fingers through soft, pale hair.

“I’m here.” Yuuri whispered into Viktor’s ear, because that was what his mother told him when he cried, although there was usually a lot more hushing and cooing.

The words broke the last of Viktor’s control and he was sobbing into Yuuri’s shoulder, clutching at his back. Viktor hadn’t wanted to break down like this. He didn’t want Yuuri to worry about him when he should be focusing on his performance for the free skate. He didn’t want this; but as soon as Yuuri spoke the dam burst and everything just came flooding out of him.

“Yuuri, I can’t lose Makkachin, _I can’t,_ ” Viktor forced out, hot tears soaking into Yuuri’s jacket, “Yuuri, I can’t.”

And Yuuri was lost. He didn’t know what to say. He wanted to tell Viktor that everything would be okay, but he couldn’t. He didn’t know that, and he wouldn’t lie to Viktor. If the roles were reversed, that wouldn't be what Yuuri would want to hear.

For lack of anything else to say, he just said, “I’m sorry.”

Yuuri rubbed circles on Viktor’s back and stroked his hair until the painful sobs subsided and Viktor was sniffling against his shoulder. After a while, Viktor sat up and rested his hands on Yuuri’s cheeks.

“Are you going to be okay tomorrow?” He asked, voice strained from crying.

Yuuri put his hand over one of Viktor’s and tilted his head to kiss the inside of his wrist, “I’ll make you proud.”

Apparently letting everything out had helped a little, because Viktor smiled at that. He kissed Yuri on the forehead and said, “I know you will.”

“I hope Makkachin’s okay.” Yuuri said, because he couldn’t not, “Text me when you land, yeah?”

Yuuri pulled him into a tight hug, and Viktor squeezed back.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me screaming about how they can't kill off Makkachin on [tumblr](http://futurefishy.tumblr.com/) and [twitter](https://twitter.com/futurefishy).


End file.
